


becoming "human".

by towards



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Ableism, Ableist Language, Abuse, Brain Damage, Gen, caregiver abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-09 23:32:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3268400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towards/pseuds/towards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>drrr!! kink meme fill. darkfic. abusive situation.</p><p>prompt: "so how about izaya or shizuo (doesn't matter which one) gets shot (preferrably in the head - something traumatic). months later (lets say 7-12), whichever wakes up, and the other has to care for them entirely. lets say whichever has lost a huge chunk of the life they had before, memories, motorskills, and basic things we learn as we grow up (like speech, walking, and how to read/write), and the other has to help them relearn these things and get life back to its regular speed knowing it's going to be one hell of a tough road."</p>
            </blockquote>





	becoming "human".

People often wished for the ability to never feel pain. They would think, "how amazing would it be to never shout and curse when you stub your toe?" or secretly admire the thought of never needing to worry about how weak they would look if they shed a tear after punching something too hard. What most people never thought of was what feeling pain did. It warned you when you had gone too far and when you should run. The scream your body sends through your arm when you touch a hot stove is a warning not to do that and a reminder for the next time you think it's a good idea to try.

Heiwajiwa Shizuo never felt pain.

Things that would stop a normal man in his tracks barely registered to him. Something splitting through his hand was regarded with a stunned stare, broken bones were shrugged off - even after getting hit by a car, he never thought to be more cautious of running into the street after an opponent.

Never did his body remind him of the last time he pushed it this far. His body refused to tell him when to stop. 

This wasn't even his first time being shot.

The last time he had thought he had just slipped in the rain. There was no warning to associate with the bang of a gun, just annoyance at the sound and a snarl of rage when he found his leg wasn't moving as easily as it should. The broken sign he used as his weapon lashed out, knocking one of the gang members back and into the dirty alley wall. Tactless thugs had assaulted him on his way home from work, declaring that he was a threat that could no longer be free to roam on his own.

What a joke.

The metal in his hands groaned under the pressure of his grip. All he had ever wanted was to live a peaceful life. Have a job he could hold down, to go a week without having to write out a check for property damages, to sit down and connect with people who weren't afraid of him. Some of those had begun to finally come true for him... and that was the best he could hope for.

But it was bastards like this who made his life hard.

Another bang. Shizuo half turned just in time, hearing the shriek of the bullet more than he felt it brush by his cheek. The group on the ground was too big to rush out when he could hardly stand up straight, and the men on the rooftops knew what they were doing. This wasn't a fight for dominance, this was an assassination attempt.

Ah, but he wasn't famous enough for assassination, was he? If he was the boss of a gang as they so often claimed, perhaps he could boast that his death would be something of real matter. He had never thought that much about it. This would be murder, wouldn't it? The man who had never killed one was about to be killed by many. A group effort... One he had caused on his own. One that Izaya had pieced together. 

Bang.

Shizuo's arm went limp. He staggered back now, against the wall. 

Bang.

Kasuka. Tom-san. Celty. People who cared about him... they would miss him. They wouldn't want to see him go out like this.

The man rushed forward, sign lifted high. Clunk, one. Clunk, two. BANG, three.

Bang.

The world went red. Slowly. Everything slowed down and the Beast of Ikebukuro slowed with it. Something wet and hot rolled into his eyes as the world blurred and darkened.

\--- 

No one knew exactly how long Shizuo had been there, alone and bleeding in that dark ally. Just as it was often said, a normal man would have died. Shizuo Heiwajima should have died. It was a mixture of his shocking ability to survive and a lucky tilt of his head that saved him from dying there in that alley.

It was Celty who had found him there when running a surprise delivery for Izaya. 

It was Shinra who had asked her in an usually somber moment if she was going to be alright. After bringing him home she had simply sat there, almost numb, lost in thought about how easy and fragile human lives can really be. If even Shizuo could be so grievously injured, what chance did someone like Shinra have?

And, more importantly, what had Izaya had to do with this?

[ did you do this? ] 

[ how cowardly are you really? ] 

[ this is wrong and you know it! ]

[ even if you hated him don't you think that that was the wrong way ]

 

It was Izaya who was taken by surprise when she stormed up to him, fingers frantically typing away at the PDA. He barely had time to read one accusation before she had yanked it away and was typing the next, furious. And though he played coy, pretending he had no idea what she was talking about - he knew. Information was his game, after all - and when rumors began to spread that the beast of Ikebukuro was dead, he was the one to root out the source.

What he gathered was there had been a gang conflict. Or rather, someone wanted to get a leg up on the Dollars. Shizuo's affiliation with the group had become known far and wide, though the monster had never really done anything other than show up to a few gatherings and had managed to look stupid and lost in both. 

Whatever. They should have shot him twice.

Even as Izaya leaned back in his chair, dismissing Celty's frantic typing with a wave of his hand, he thought about all of the ways that those idiots had botched up what should have been a simple job... Sadly, he could take no credit for it. He had heard the stirrings and the rumors, and pointed out to some people that Shizuo was indeed a member of Dollars, but he hadn't organized this.

He wished he had.

He would have done it right. 

There was nothing to observe in the body laying in that bed in the hospital. The monster wasn't dead, just sleeping. Who knew what kind of damage their arrogance and idiocy had done? What if what awoke was an even more uncontrollable beast that rampaged through the town and killed everyone?

It was cruel... The thought itself had stuck in his mind, making him sick with it's own implications. Shizu-chan was not human, which meant that he was to be loathed and treated as nothing more than the dumb animal he was... but even dumb animals deserved to be put down with some level of dignity. Not dying in that sterile, stark white room with only the beeping of machines to fill the silence. It was wrong. Wrong. And Izaya would have put him down properly. 

Even if he had to pull the trigger himself. He wouldn't have left it so unfinished.

"I had nothing to do with this, Celty-san!" The informant said jovially, expression telling nothing of the conflicts inside, and shrugging his narrow shoulders and reaching for the cup of coffee still cooling on the edge of his desk. "Shizu-chan had a lot of enemies, after all. Don't you think one of them would be more likely to do something like this?"

Tea in hand, he thumbed the handle, spinning back in his chair. He could feel her outrage... but she was probably conceding. His plan would have been better thought out. He wouldn't have gotten that far and then left it unfinished.

Shizuo...

He heard the Dullahan's footsteps retreating. The slam of the front door.

"Life is so fragile."

Izaya hated hospitals.

It wasn't that the people inside were disgusting or that the idea of their disfigurations and illnesses sickened him, Orihara Izaya loved all humans, after all... it was the fact that death completely covered the walls. There was nothing that bothered him more than being surrounded with a constant reminder of the inevitability of death.

Shizuo was stable. From what Shinra had told him it had been touch and go for some time. Now, stable meant that he no longer moved. He no longer jumped up at the mere sight of him, screaming "IZAYA-KUUUUUHNN!" and grabbing something to bludgeon him with. He didn't even react when Izaya drove one of the plastic forks into his hand.

Izaya contemplated removing the machines and smothering him with his pillow, just so he would never need to see that lax face ever again.

The days grew boring without Shizuo. He paraded around Ikebukuro without fear, even lingered in the places he knew Shizuo had frequented simply to know that he could. The novelty was quick to wear off, leaving him bored and longing for some sort of challenge once again... there was nothing. Nothing he could do entertained him anymore. There was no challenge in it anymore.

Months passed. 

The boredom grew. Izaya stopped by the hospital now and again, watching as Shizuo's naturally dark hair overtook the blonde. He was almost unrecognizable when they finally cut the dried, dyed locks off... actually, he looked much more like his freak brother... almost handsome.

Was this was Namie's dearest brother felt when he looked at the head of the Dullahan? This... odd sense of fascination. It was something so wrong, so inconceivable, yet so fascinating that you couldn't bring yourself to look away.

He touched Shizuo's scar that last time, almost admired the way the hair grew now to accommodate that reminder that he was not immortal. He'd focused on that instead of noticing how thin the man had gotten, instead of wondering if perhaps Shizuo would never wake up again and simply slip off into that eternal sleep.

After a year of lying in that bed it wasn't shocking if he did.

The anniversary of that day had come and gone already. Izaya had settled into that dull routine, hating every single moment of it. Namie had often commented that he lacked his usual luster, to which she would often be silenced by the glinting threat of a knife.

The real shock came the day his phone rang in the middle of the night.

It was rare that Izaya was asleep at a normal hour. His job meant keeping tabs on everything and anyone, which meant to be prepared for anything at any time. Calls did indeed come anywhere and at any time, unless he'd turned his phone off. But such an occurrence was rare. He hated to feel disconnected from the rest of his network.

Even so, for the phone to blare on a Monday night was nigh incomprehensible to his sleep fogged mind. He lifted himself half up, staring at the device blankly. Perhaps it was one of the moles in the recently reformed Blue Squares? Or, ah, perhaps it was that impatient yakuza thug who wanted to know if his wife was cheating on him (she was) with the boss of a rival gang (she wasn't). He was expecting the gruff voice of a man trying to sound tougher than he actually was.

Not Shinra.

He didn't like it when Shinra tried to sound serious. There was something creepy about that voice being so low and flat, creepy in a way that Izaya just didn't want to have near him. 

"Izaya," the doctor said, slow and serious. Ahh, he sounded tired. Izaya opened his mouth, ready for a smug, playful retort - but the doctor cut him off sternly before he could even get in a syllable.. "The hospital. Can you come here?"

"At this hour?" Aha! What a joke. Who would go out on the streets so late at night? "What's wrong? Don't tell me Shizu-chan finally kicked the bucket!" He laughed, shortly and coldly. Shizuo hadn't been doing well for some time. He had expected this call much earlier.

Shinra chuckled on the other end of the phone. It wasn't a pleasant sound... in fact, it raised the hair on the back of his neck. "Quite the opposite, actually." 

That sound had to be even worse. That bright, carefree expression vanishing from his face. "He's awake?" 

Shinra said nothing. These silences... he hated them. It was alright if Izaya delayed a conversation or ran it in circles, but he loathed to have the same done to him. "You just need to come, Izaya. I'm not going to tell you anything more until you're here."

Izaya hated to be hung up on. He held the phone to his ear for several more moments after the click, listening to the beeping of the dial tone.

Shizuo couldn't walk. Couldn't talk... couldn't even breathe yet without those machines. He couldn't even lift his head off of the pillow without Kasuka's hand supporting its weight. Tom stood in the back of the room, watching the two Heiwajima siblings with pity in his eyes. Kasuka said nothing, that blank face betrayed nothing... but he had known the younger brother long enough to notice when he was upset. 

After Shizuo's accident they'd begun to spend time together. "Spending time" was really just sitting in places that Tom and Shizuo had once frequented, answering questions that Kasuka asked. The actor seemed to be having a difficult time without his brother... even if they rarely spent time together, they were very close. When he wasn't working, Kasuka was there at the hospital with him. Not talking, as you were supposed to do with coma patients (or so Tom had read) but just being there, doing small things for his brother.

It was just the same.

If the Heiwajiwa brothers were normal, maybe Kasuka would have reacted more to Shizuo being awake. He might have jumped for joy or cried in relief. He might have kissed his brother and held him as tightly as he could... but Kasuka instead only gently stroked his brother's hair, pressing his forehead against Shizuo's. Wordlessly. And only for a few moments.

Tom rubbed the back of his neck, watching the display sadly. Shizuo just seemed lost. He blinked sleepily, sluggishly tilting his head to look at the gathered group. He didn't seem to understand at all... maybe he didn't even see them. 

No one knew how bad the damage in there was yet. Shizuo's body was weak, but it would recover with time... but there wasn't anything that could heal damage inside there. All they could do was pray that he was alright, that he was just disoriented from being asleep so long.

But it had been four hours now. There was little change. The younger brother looked... blank, as he often did, but there was something different. Something under that.

Shizuo had never done anything to deserve something like this. 

Closing the distance between himself and the bed, Tom reached out and gently ruffled his former bodyguard's hair, mindful of the scar... the look in Shizuo's eyes hurt in a way he hadn't expected. Shizuo was often angry and loud, but the Shizuo that he had come to know simply by reaching out and getting to know the quiet person he really was... Shizuo had often looked at him like he had all of the answers, and now he didn't even look like he recognized him. 

The debt collector smiled softly, hopefully reassuringly, and quietly excused himself. 

Down by the doors of the hospital, he took the time to enjoy his cigarette... it was his fault Shizuo had gotten into the habit in the first place. He started at the end of the stick, watching the bright glow peter out into ashes... Shizuo would be fine. He wouldn't burn out like that.

He let his head rest against the concrete pillar, closing his eyes. Kasuka's call had come early in the day and the two of them had been there ever since. He was tired.

Opening his eyes, the debt collector debated going home now and coming back later... a glance to his watch. Today. He needed to sleep... he couldn't do this like Kasuka could. Shizuo's brother was really a strong person.

He hadn't looked up yet from his watch when he saw it. White bouncing in the dark... white fur. Tom stood up a little straighter. What was he... ah... 

It would make sense. Izaya would want to come laugh at his fallen foe, wouldn't he? Tom flicked the butt of his cigarette away.

Soap operas did this all the time. When one character became too involved in another character's business, they had a convenient plot twist that involved a gun, or poison, or a fall - a coma was the most used way of writing them out until they were needed again. Toss in a dose of amnesia and everything would fit the bill of one of those plotlines that women seemed to love so much.

Would Shizu-chan try to pin the blame on him for his injury? Or... would he even still have the capacity to recognize his face? An injury like that should have left him a vegetable for the rest of his miserable existence... so very much like an afternoon drama. 

Izaya's hands were trembling inside his pockets, a mixture of excitement and annoyance playing across his face as he considered the possible scenarios that would come with a reawakened Shizuo. His plans had come so far with the former bartender out of his life, but they had moved so fast he hadn't really had a chance to enjoy them. The build up was coming too quickly. No challenge, no effort - without Shizuo, he had nothing to stand above. No clear inferior, as the human race seemed to be catching up to him. His cunning and intelligence only worked with the slow minded and the weak. Going after people his own age or older, the people with goals and dreams and an established place in this world, only ever backfired on him.

Even with Shizuo... no matter what lies he used, no matter how he tried to sweet talk the giant into doing what he wanted, he never did. Shizuo would only sniff him out to try to chase him out of his home. 

That was why he didn't deal with adults. Too messy. Too many ways something could really go wrong.

Like this.

If he had been there that night, he would have fired the second shot himself... or so he told himself, denying that it could possibly be false bravado on his part. He would have shot the monster and ended it for him, not leaving him a twitching mess in a filthy place like that.

He really and truly wouldn't have minded if they had killed him, but the fact that they hadn't was what left a sour taste in his mouth. Shizuo was nothing more than a dog - and, ah, there was the master, eying him as if he'd rather like to put him down himself. Tom Tanaka really hadn't gone back to debt collecting with the same... it wasn't exactly joy in the first place, but he was clearly missing something.

Had he and Shizu-chan had some sort of sordid love affair? It would make sense if Shizuo was like that, after all. No girl would come close to him... he didn't blame them. Loving something like that would be akin to bestiality. There was nothing good or human about Shizuo, no matter how hard he tried to fight himself or convince himself that he was good inside.

He just wasn't.

He waved to the debt collector, smiling as the kind gesture went ignored. If anything, Tom glared harder. Oh, how scary! He almost felt like he could catch on fire from the sheer fury.

If they really had had some sort of love affair, he probably would have been killed on the spot. Love made human beings irrational and foolhardy. Love made them painfully, painfully stupid and violent and irrational. Izaya saved himself from that by loving every human instead of focusing all that love on just one.

In the doors. Up the flight of stairs. To the familiar room.

The monster's brother was by his side, smoothing his hair. Not speaking. Shinra and Celty had probably just stepped out... no one else would visit such a creature. He had to wonder where his parents were. Had they just abandoned him once he was old enough to fend for himself?

It wasn't any of his concern.

What was concerning him was the sight of Shizuo on that bed. He didn't seem aware in the least... not surprising. He probably - no, from the charts Izaya had gotten his hands on, he definitely - had suffered from brain damage... so this is what he had come to see? 

It didn't make him want to laugh. It gave him no satisfaction. It just made him sick.

Shizuo's skin had grown pale while in here - the sickly color worsened by the darkness of his hair and the circles under his eyes. Though he had never been a very muscular man, the loss was evident. He was thinner now, not quite as imposing - barely a blip on the danger radar. If it were not the man who had once single handedly destroyed main street, perhaps he would have been willing to believe that all of that inhuman strength was gone... but it wasn't. Whatever was wrong with Shizuo's brain was always going to be wrong with it. No bullet could change it. With that firmly in mind, the sight of the younger brother supporting his head like one would an infant's was unnerving. There didn't seem to be a real point to it - Shizuo wasn't making an effort to sit up (that he could see, at least - perhaps the monster was paralyzed?) and Kasuka was simply holding him like that with that flat expression.

Quite honestly, Izaya had never liked either brother. While Shizuo rampaged, Kasuka felt nothing - anyone looking at him could see that there was something wrong in the actor's head. Some wire crossed wrong in his brain... he hadn't known the brothers long enough to know if it had always been so or if it was something that had been caused by Shizuo's influence, but he could make an educated guess and say that the whole family was just born wrong.

Kasuka glanced over as he stepped through the door, those blank eyes regarding him carefully... and then the actor nodded, just once - approval? He'd hardly expected that. He watched through narrowed eyes as Kasuka gently let Shizuo rest on the pillow. He mumbled something ("I'll be back, brother." ? ) and stood. Two steps, precisely measured - and he turned to face him. His movements were robotic. Unnerving. Monster!

"You're supposed to talk to him, Yuuhei-san!" Izaya spread his coat out behind him, a smile firmly affixed to his face. "Talking to coma patients is what helps them come out of it! Haven't you read up on any of this?" 

"Is it?" Kasuka's expression didn't change, though the slight inflection to his voice must have meant it was a question. He glanced at Shizuo for a moment... perhaps thoughtful? And then his attention was back on Izaya.

"It is." His smile wavered.

"I see," that same flat, empty voice.

... Damn. Those flat brown eyes were staring at him so coldly... ahh, was the actor planning on having him killed for something he hadn't done? He just might have to reliati-

"Orihara-san." Did that voice ever change?! He wasn't even looking at him. "If you would not mind, I'd like to have a word with you in the hall."

"I don't mind at all, Yuuhei-san. By why would you call me all the way for something like that? Couldn't you just talk to me over the phone?"

The man on the bed groaned softly, a sound of aggrivation. Izaya stopped, leaning to the side to look. Was he awake? ... That expression had changed only slightly. Maybe he was dying after all!

"No." A beat. Kasuka tilted his head back. "... Perhaps. But I thought this was better to talk about in person." He paused again. "It is best to have all of my brother's close aquantences here."

"What sort of things has Shizu-chan been telling you, Yuuhei-san? I would think you'd know best of all how we feel about each other. All of Ikebukuro knows, after all!" It was hard to miss men who tried to kill each other on a weekly basis, after all. "I think you may have gotten your numbers mixed up!"

"No." Kasuka said softly. "I know."

Suddenly, Izaya liked that look even less. The smile dropped off of his face, his thumb rubbing over the hilt of his blade as he stepped back and out of the room. Kasuka followed, seemingly oblivious to the possibility of danger - but Izaya knew better. That cold, empty expression eamnt that he was aware of everything.

Izaya hummed. "So why would you want someone your brother hates so much to be at his side at his most vulnerable? Wouldn't you want him to stay as far away as possible from Shizu-chan?"

"No."

This was like talking to a wall. Izaya sighed, slumping his shoulders forward. "I don't follow at all, Yuuhei-san! Please explain."

"I think that someone Brother hates most would be the best one to wake him up." His lips twitched into the faintest of frowns. "It was Orihara-san that always brought out the strongest reactions."

... ah, that was why?

Perhaps Kasuka didn't understand what brain damage meant! .. Maybe he had it himself? Maybe Shizuo had caused this emotionlessness when they were children by hitting him too hard and he couldn't grasp what it was because of it!

The actor looked away, pondering. "Brother's injuries... he can overcome them." The younger Heiwajiwa was clearly jumping the gun here... then again, this was the man who bought Shizuo a lifetime supply of bartender suits. "He reacted when your name was spoken," he returning his gaze to Izaya. "If you would talk to him, he'll wake up."

"But he is awake! Haven't you see those eyes? It's not my fault if that single-celled brain of his can't process anything anymore." 

There was another pause.

Something glinted in those dark eyes... Anger. Oh, he'd angered him, had he? But it was gone as quick as it had come. Kasuka stared at him with the same robotic look, empty, indecipherable. Then, after a moment, he spoke again. "I'll pay you." 

"I have enough money."

"I'll pay you more."

"More than what~?"

A longer pause. He could see the frustration rising. Oh, how scary! He was Shizuo's blood after all... but it was gone again before he could comment.

"More than you would make in two years working on your own."

"All of this for a single conversation?!" How hilarious! It was only made more so when Kasuka nodded seriously. Izaya's face split into a nasty grin. "Well then, Yuuhei-san! I can't refuse something like that."

It would be interesting to see what he could get away with saying to Shizuo when he was like this... he could tell that the actor thought he had made the right choice, though Kasuka failed to step aside and offered no nod or smile as confirmation that their deal had been made... but it wasn't the money. Really. It was backing away from a challenge like this - it was running away from Shizuo, when Shizuo could not chase.

He stepped away, hands slipped deep into his pockets. The actor in front of him moved away slowly - something told him that he wasn't going to stray far... for brothers who spoke so rarely, they certainly were protective. Izaya supposed that if his sisters were in trouble he would be the same way. Not like that, of course. He wouldn't be so flat and empty about it, nor would he be stupid enough just to sit there and hold them like dolls.

He stepped into the lion's den once again.

Shizuo had fallen asleep. Perhaps he really was dying! That would be too lucky, Izaya told himself flatly, because Shizuo never made anything easy. The informant lingered near the door, staring at the man for several moments. The Shizuo of his memories would hate to know what he had become. Even if, Izaya found himself forced to admit, the former blonde really did look much better with that dark hair. It was easy to see how he had once been scouted as a possible model when his peaceful face looked so much like a model.

No one would see this face if he was still his abnormal self.

Izaya had seen the charts. He knew that the damage in Shizuo's head should have left him unable to move at all.. but his miraculous healing and strength kept him alive. If he stayed alive, they'd be running tests to see just how badly he was broken in there.

He closed the distance between them, giving a long sigh as he pulled his hands from his pockets. He reached out, pressing one long finger against the scar. In the shape of a gun - was this poor taste? Oh, who cared?

"Shi~zu~chan!" 

There are times when one is left staring death in the face. Some stand up to the challenge, others quietly back down and beg for their lives like any good human should... Izaya wondered what sort of face Shizuo had worn when he had met death that night, and how he had managed to cheat the reaper out of what should have been his by now. There were so many times that the brute should have met his end. The car crash, the first shooting, the - he couldn't even begin to count. Yet time and time again, Shizuo and death had simply had a pleasant conversation before continuing on their separate ways.

But not this time.

Seeing this up close was even worse. Shizuo moved sluggishly, as if underwater. Even opening his eyes seemed like a difficult task for him like this. Those once perpetually angry golden eyes now reflected nothing but confusion... and he was so thin. Even so, Izaya expected one of those large hands to jump up and snap his wrist as if it was nothing more than a twig... but it didn't. He thought he might have seen those eyes narrow and that hand twitch... No, his fingers were definitely twitching, his brow was indeed creasing - but that was probably in response to the fingers pressed against such a triggering area.

"Do you recognize me, Shizu-chan~?" He dug his nail into the scar, eyes narrowing. His smile sharpened. The man on the bed blinked in response, then, slowly, flinched as the pain registered. The most he managed was an upward twitch of his arm. "I'll take that as a yes!"

But it might not have been. Shizuo was probably just reacting to the unpleasant feeling. He knew that look, after all. For a while in their childhood, his sisters had been obsessed with 'brain tickles'. It was a game of poking a certain place on the forehead of someone else and watching their face as an unpleasant sensation went through their head. It had been a rather alarming game when one of them had wondered what would happen if they used a knife - and being too young to know any better, had almost attempted it before Izaya had caught it and snatched it away.

He dropped his hand, resting the palm against Shizuo's forehead. He could feel those blank eyes watching him - just how strong was the younger brother, anyway? Did he have the same super human strength that Shizuo so hated? If he did, then perhaps he should be a little more careful with his precious brother.

Long, nible fingers wove through Shizuo's dark hair, taking a moment to admire the softness... maybe the monster was downgraded to a dog. He glanced at Shizuo's face - those eyes were closed again. Judging from the slight tension in his face, it looked like he was trying to clench his jaw... he remembered these hands as the ones who had so often stabbed him. Was he afraid?

Or was he waiting for a more fitting end.

Perhaps the reason Shizuo wasn't coming back to them was because he was afraid of living like this. He let his nails scrape along the man's scalp - gentler now, as if he was affectionately warnning a feral animal. The sudden emotion across Shizuo's face was unexpected.

Helplessness.

The acknowledgement of helplessness. His life was in another's hands - or so the remaining cells of that already tiny brain were telling him. He probably had no idea where he was or what was happening, but he had recognized Izaya... that old hatred was enough to bring him around, even a little bit.

Unsurprisingly.

If it could command his body to go above and beyond its limits, it could command his feeble mind to do the same... this was interesting.

But it didn't make him feel any less sick, or wish that his mortal enemy had died and been spared this indignity any less. Despite himself, he allowed that touch to become more gentle, stroking that soft hair now. If Shizuo could not even get out of bed, then there was no reason to kick the downed dog.

... Dog. Yes. A dog. That's all he was now.

Just a poor, beaten dog. Shizuo had stepped even lower on the ranks of humanity in a matter of moments. Izaya could easily make the switch. Satisfied with this, he reached back with one foot and dragged the chair closer, collapsing onto it the moment it was close enough.

"You've missed a lot while you were asleep, Shi-zu-chan," he said slowly and cheerfully, careful to enucniate each word as if he couldn't understand. Come to think of it, that was a possibility, wasn't it? After taking a minute to collect his thoughts, the informant launched into a jolly recap of how the past year had gone without him. He spoke of Shinra and Celty's (false) engagement, of Anri and Mikado's turbulent first date (also false) and even took time to provide lip service to the people who had died in the latest gang war between the reforming Blue Squares and the Dollars. Shizuo watched him all the while, seemingly fading in and out of the conversation. Of anger. Of interest. Awareness. 

But he didn't try to move again.

An hour had gone by before long. Izaya was content just to watch the way Shizuo tried to focus on him. He was wrong - the dog was definitely still aware. The damage in there was probably just making it hard for him to communicate - or move. Thinking seemed difficult for him as well, but the more he watched, the more he was sure that was just a product of being unconscious for so long. 

How exciting.

Izaya couldn't deny that he was interested.

"I'll be back in a week to see how you're doing then, Shizu-chan!" He reached over, touching his hand. Twice. Once was just a gentle tap, expecting that hand to jump up for his throat and preparing to flee accordingly, the second was an mocking pat. "Don't go anywhere!"

That night in the chatroom, Setton-san was happy. Izaya watched her excited text fill the screen, absently counting out the money that the young actor had handed him the moment he had stepped out of the room. Kasuka hadn't asked him if he was going to be back, he had just inclined his head ever so slightly. The unspoken understanding had passed between them before Izaya had even realized it.

Setting the money aside he reached for Shizuo's medical file, already dog eared from his constant searching.

His "condition" had covered his medical bills before he'd even started highschool. It made sense. There was no way his parents could possibly have afforded to pay for their son's every broken bone unless there was something helping them. Nor could Shizuo stay out of jail if he hadn't had a valid reason for beating people half to death on a near weekly basis. When he had joked about things being wired wrong in Shizuo's brain, he had never thought it was quite like this. No one else in the world had quite the same ability.

Save for perhaps the Dullahan. 

"But one can hardly count Celty-san!" Izaya sighed, flinging the folder casually over his shoulder. Useless! It would all be changed once they knew just what damage had been done and whether or not they could fix it. Doubtful. The brain was a delicate thing. Their doctor acquitence had often tried to tell them about the brain and it's mysteries, how delicate it was, how amazing it was, how much he loved to learn about it - ironic, since the woman he lived with literally did not have one.

If only they could anaylze Shizuo's strength and find a way to give it to a more deserving person. That empty head of his didn't deserve any of the mysteries that surrounded it. A gift had been given to him but he was too stupid, too monsterous to appreciate just what it was... The informant hated Shizuo for too many reasons to count; but that, above all else, was the reason he loathed him the most. Shizuo could surpass human limitations, but he was too stupid and impulsive to try.

Was it because of his strength, or was his strength because of that?

Displeased with that train of thought, cold red eyes turned to the screen. That slow, lazy smile worked it's way back onto his face as he watched "Tanaka Taro" and "Setton-san" happily discuss how wonderful it was to get a friend back, even if they had returned different from how they had left. "Kanra" watched their insecurities spill over, happily absorbing everything to be used against them.

[ You know, Setton-san! When a person wakes up from a coma it doesn't happen like in the movies! ] 

The conversation stopped dead. 

[ You said that your friend was injured well over a year ago, didn't you? 

Well the chances of a full recovery are very low then! ]

The outrage was immediate. Celty was quick today - her furious words filled his screen before he had much time to react. Line after line of black on orange filled his field of vision, until his own words would require at least two full scrolls.. and he was far too lazy to read all of this and come up with a cohesive argument against her words.

[ I'm didn't mean to offend! I'm just trying to say, don't get your hopes up too high. ]

Oh. Even the mild Mikado was angry at him for that one... perhaps that new friend of his really was a bad influence. The cutting words and accusations are dually noted and immediately discarded - he had only told the truth. There were websites written specifically on this topic.

He also knew that early on in that coma, Shizuo had proven to be a danger to himself. Before his muscles began to atrophy and his body began to thin, he had broken his own arm in fit of thrashing. And again. And again. Izaya figured now that it was because he had no proper motor control. For most people this may have meant being unable to walk or reach for things... for the former blonde bartender, it meant that his body had no idea how to adjust it's own strength. Thinking about it now, he supposed that maybe Shizuo had been unable to reach for him because he couldn't figure out how to put enough strength into that arm.

Knowing all of this and more left the informant wondering if he should call a hit on the ones who had done this. They had managed to get a decent name for themselves now, boasting that they were the ones who had finally gotten rid of Violence Incarnate. Truth be told, they were just pathetic men who ran with boys. The informant had recognized their faces when he'd finally hunted them down, remembering them as the ones who had once tried to smash Shizuo's head open with a brick after he had beaten them up. It had been their fault. Threatening Kasuka in front of Shizuo was the stupidest thing they ever could have done.

If they had done this right it would have been alright. True, he would still be as bored as he was now. But it would only be boredom. There would be none of this... pity. If he had just died then he wouldn't be returning to the hospital next week to try talking to him again. No nagging curiosity... he would just be in a grave, rotting. Perhaps Izaya would visit, kick it down, laugh that he had won their eternal battle! But this was simply terrible.

It was like victory had been robbed from him. Instead of satisfaction, all he could think about was what was actually going on in that head. If he could recover from that - and he wanted to see. He wanted to know the extent of Shizuo's immortality.

Worst of all had to be that he pitied the dog.

So white, these rooms. Sterile, cold, and empty. void. He couldn't fathom why someone would ever want to enter the world here, work here, live here, or come here to die. The sun sliding through the shafts in the blinds did nothing to brighten the space, if anything it only washed it out further and left it more desolate and empty than it was before.

"What should we talk about today, Shizu-chan?" 

Two weeks had passed since his first visit. The doctors were pleased to announce Shizuo was moving towards a state of full awareness with each passing day. It was slower than most, but who could blame him? That should have destroyed a normal man.

He couldn't speak - if Shinra's tirades were to be trusted, he had tried - but now he was at least able to look at someone who was speaking to him without looking like he was unsure of what they were... he still didn't look like he could place who most of them were, but that was another problem entirely. He was able to stay awake longer and had even made a few attempts to sit up on his own. 

Those had been discouraged after Shizuo managed to pop his arm out of it's socket. No one was entirely sure how he'd managed that - few people wanted to even begin to imagine what that fearsome strength would do when so uncontrolled. His muscles were weak. He managed to hurt himself every day so far.

The last Izaya heard, they were consider strapping him to the bed.

Still, Shizuo had not once reached out in an attempt to hurt anyone else. Granted, it seemed to just be Kasuka that stayed with him now - but the younger brother couldn't be kept away from his job forever. He'd already postponed several modeling jobs, as well as pushed back the date to begin filming his new movie. Fans staying in the hospital had snapped several shots of the brothers sitting together. One particularly admirable shot had Shizuo's head resting on Kasuka's shoulder, a rare look of contentment on both of their faces.

The rumors that had started to fly were preposterous. If Shizuo was in his right mind he probably would have tracked them down and beaten them within an inch of their lives - but he didn't comprehend it fully. Shinra had mentioned that Shizuo was already functioning at a level that should have been impossible for someone with that kind of damage, but neither man was particularly surprised to know this. The only thing that concerned Shinra was the seizures and the unintentional self harming. 

A long term plan had to be put into affect. When asked how he felt about the hospital on his more aware days, Shizuo had grunted and tried to clench his fists. The possibility of a care facility had been offered, but that had been shot down before it had even reached Shizuo's ears. Kasuka did not want his brother to be living in a place like that.. both for his own safety, and the safety of the people around him.

"Ah-ha! How about we talk about what a freak you are?" 

Izaya liked to think he saw a twitch during that.

So far, Shizuo only attempted to react when he was in the room. Kasuka was too calm to make a real impact, other than keeping Shizuo calm and contented when he started to stress himself out. All of his information was second hand, so he couldn't completely verify it - but one of the young girls across the hall said that they had seen Kasuka's presence work better than a sedative. 

That was bad. If he were to regain anything he would need constant care and stimulation. Someone to talk to him and be there to help him, other than the nurses who would inevitably come. Shizuo was a special case, unlike anything anyone had ever seen before... and he needed a different approach than most.

Celty and Shinra couldn't take him in. They didn't have enough room, and the Dullahan's muteness wouldn't be good for him. Shinra did offer to lend his services. It seems that absence did indeed make the heart grow fonder! He had probably come to miss trying to experiment on that inhuman body.

Kasuka wanted to. That much was certain, but his schedule simply didn't allow for it. That wasn't touching on what his influence would do to Shizuo. Not that anyone would complain if he came out of it as empty as his younger brother was. They'd consider it a miracle.

Tom was also completely out of the question. He worked... and it would be too obvious. THere would be so many people who would leap at the change to finish the debt collector's former bodyguard off.

That left the one person that no one would think of - except Kasuka. Had the actor been planning something like this from the start? Possibly. The cold and calculating younger brother probably realized what no one else had. Izaya was interested. Izaya could always bring out the strongest reaction in his brother, and that was what Shizuo needed - and he wouldn't be shocked if in that robotic mind, Kasuka thought that the two mortal enemies could be classified as "friends" because of it. There was no friendship or affection to it. Izaya found this entertaining. The possibility of Shizuo trying to hurt him still existed, but how could he? All Izaya had to do was step out of range and the man would be trying to crush air. 

Of course there would be other influences. The "friends" would be over, probably taking him into their homes when they felt like they could handle him/ Izaya was already formulating a plan before it had been offered. It was interesting! So interesting! A break from the mundane! And since he worked on his own time, everything would work out just fine. Kasuka would take him when he wasn't working, Shinra would handle all of the things he just didn't want to, and Celty... ah, Celty-san would just "glare". 

The dog would have a home. That much was certain... it would be interesting to see if he could build anything from the broken remains of the monster. Maybe a faithful, stupid dog that would do his bidding? Or was that hoping for too much? 

This was, of course, all assuming that Shizuo continued to get better in the coming months. It would be a while before he could be taken anywhere. There was medication to be perscribed, beds to be bought, and physical therapists for Shizuo to mentally scar and maim long before he would be letting the dog into his home.

The reason why Shizuo was going to Izaya in the end was simply because Izaya could handle him. No one else could. Everyone else would balk and fail.

Just as he'd often thought, the dog owned absolutely nothing lasting of his own. Kasuka had visited his elder brother's old apartment (which from what he gathered, the acotr had continued to pay for after his brother's injury) and had gone through the things that had remained there. Izaya remembered the place, barren and filled with only the minimum needed to get by. It did make sense. Shizuo broke everything he touched. To continue to replace these things would have been nothing more than a waste of money.

So not like a human. Didn't Shizuo have any concept of greed? He couldn't really be that simplistic. Izaya's apartment, on the other hand, was filled with luxuries and memories. It looked like a home and not just some kennel to curl up in at night. The more expensive things would have to be set out of Shizuo's reach. Sunday was spent finding the delicate things that would surely be smashed if clumsy fingers touched them.

Kasuka came on a Monday with his new things. His only acknowledgement that Izaya was even there was a short nod in his general direction about twenty minutes into the move. Though that could have just been an itch on his neck. Saying nothing, the informant took note of the expensive look of the things that were brought in. He never did anything halfway, did he? 

After they had left he had crept into the room to see for himself, quietly taking in the expensive recreation of Shizuo Heiwajima's childhood bedroom. He could guess as much, despite never really seeing the place. There were no posters on the wall, but everything was positioned exactly... That was the way someone like Kasuka got through life.

Shizuo was brought in on a Wednesday.

The most difficult thing was watching him walk. Once, he would have been ready to bolt at those footsteps. Those footsteps were once confident and dangerous, the threat of strength in every motion. Shizuo had practically swaggered when he'd entered this space before, kicking the door down with a threat on his lips. Now, the dog's legs shook uncertainly under him. His once easy movements were now best described as lurching, often accompanied by halting stops. Even with Tom supporting him, the formerly blonde man could hardly make it through the front door.

That was still miraculous progress for two weeks. 

Izaya supposed that they should have used a chair, if only to spare what little dignity he had left... then again, the Shizuo he had known would have broken the chair in a fit of rage. He wouldn't want to be shoved around like that... but he also wouldn't want to display weakness so openly.

Shizuo still couldn't speak. They were wondering if the poor dog would ever be able to bark again, or if he would only ever be able to growl and grunt for the rest of his life... And it was almost cute, the way he practically clung to Tom once inside the unfamiliar place. He looked like a puppy entering it's new home for the first time - oh, he had better be house trained. Izaya hid his smile behind his hand, reveling in the uncomfortable look the debt collector wore.

Oh. He was glaring now.

"Shizu-chan is making such a frightened face," Izaya spread his arms helplessly. "If I go any closer, he might just try to bite! You should try looking more enthusiastic, Tanaka Tom-san! I'm sure that will make him feel more at ease." 

There was a tough road ahead for him. If this were one of Erika's BL manga, all Shizuo would have lost was his memories. There would be none of this long recovery, no cognitive problems, no speech problems, and there would be none of this awkward concern over what to do if he was really completely incompatible with regular society again.

Familiar things were easy to him. In a space he was comfortable with, Shizuo would be much the same as he was. He had eventually recovered enough of himself to glare at Izaya when he said something cruel, to smile that pathetic little smile when Tom brought him food (even if he'd been unable to remember how to eat it on his own for a while), and had even made annoyed faces when Shinra came in and started prattling on about Celty. 

He was recovering bit by bit. That brain of his... it may have been small and wired wrong to begin with, but it's tenaciousness was astounding. The medical staff were uncertain how much he could really recover, but this was already enough to add onto his already inhuman standing. The best way for him to learn was to go through necessity. Like with anything else, he did better without thinking and working towards something, but simply by doing.

With any luck, that would keep him from overexerting himself and driving himself into a heart attack.

Shizuo's medical file was depressing to read. He'd stopped after looking at all the ways the man could possibly kill himself without even trying.

Red eyes carefully watched as the two men made it to Shizuo's room. He was probably going to have to take a nap now to recover all the energy it took him to just get up there. Tom was out a few moments after, pulling the door mostly shut behind him.

He was glaring again. Izaya really didn't like that glare.

Moving Shizuo in had been surprisingly uneventful. Whatever Tom had hoped to accomplish by standing so tall and giving him such angry stares wasn't even near met. Bored, Izaya had simply waved him off and refocused his attention on the television. Some media stations had gotten wind that Kasuka Heiwajima's older brother had just come out of a coma and was recovering miraculously. It must have been a slow day if the only things they could find were doctors to interview... and he was sure that at least half of the people there were actually uninvolved with the whole thing. 

It was rather pathetic to see. 

Sadly, his house wasn't his just yet. Tom was staying the night to make sure the dog didn't panic too much. Better him than me, Izaya had thought, turning his attention away from the walk that he was taking the poor dog on. Perhaps he should have been a better host and shown Shizuo around his new space himself, but the idea of having to support all that weight and walk that slowly really wasn't something he wanted to waste his time on.

He didn't want to deal with the house training him. 

Poor dog. Izaya had been looking the other way when he heard him fall, and he'd only looked back long enough to see the former bartender practically flail in an attempt to get back up. He couldn't figure out how to do something as simple as getting back up on his own... but he'd learn. Still, Izaya had to refocus his attention on the TV and hum the jingle on the commercial to block out the pathetic, awkward soothing words that Tom was saying. 

Though he did chuckle when he heard Tom's firm, gentle commands for his former kohai to loosen his hold before he strangled him. Whatever, the dog must have loosened it's jaws. He didn't want to deal with a murder in his living room... oh, bathroom now.

They had house trained him, hadn't they? At least taught him the... he didn't even want to think about that.

The little tour was done as quickly as it began. Shizuo was shown around the areas relevant to him, and that was it. The poor thing would probably get overwhelmed if too much was thrown at him at once. He recovered in bits and pieces, and but even with his insane healing he needed tasks repeated.

What would it be like, to be so closed off...? To have intelligence (if Shizuo at his best could even be called intelligent) but be unable to communicate any of it. To get completely overwhelmed by the simplest of things. Infants often cried because they simply became too overwhelmed by the sights, the sounds, and the space around them... would he see Shizu-chan's crying face when the city came alive and he couldn't shut out the bombardment on his senses.

Whatever. Whatever. It wasn't his problem. Not really. He was just here to watch and rebuild, not to get inside the head of the stupid dog.. he wouldn't pity him. To think about it any more than he already was would be maddening.

Still.. He looked up as they came back out. At least Shizuo was walking on his own now, looking significantly more at ease now that he was within a confined, easy space. Less overwhelmed.

Tom put him back to bed. His parting words were practically a threat, taking care to remind him that Kasuka would be visiting in a few hours and he would know if something was wrong.

The informant kept himself away from the behemoth's room for the rest of the day. Lazing across his couch with a netbook perched on his sharp knees, Izaya tasked himself with researching his latest projects. Aside from Shizuo's shooting, not much had been going on in the underworld. Growing tension was good for his plans but bad for his level of interest, he found his eyes passing over the news reports that depicted the same old same old and scrambling for something new to occupy himself with. Soon, war would errupt and he would ride the carnage to Valhalla.

... Until then, everything was simply dull.

Setton-san, Tanaka Tarou and Saika busied themselves with idle chatter. Kanra didn't bother to chime in with any sage advice or break the discussion when it entered uninteresting territory. Not like "she" usually would have, anyway - there wasn't a lot of point to it right now.

 

Red eyes flitted up to the clock. Kasuka had already come and gone. He hadn't been there particularly long - just long enough to look at Izaya with those flat, empty eyes and to turn his attention to his elder brother with the same distorted expression... trying to smile, but in a body and with a mind incapable of it. It was terrifying to think that something like that hid behind the facade of a famous actor.

By evening, Izaya had come to the alarming realization that he'd become far too complacent in Shizuo's absence... Even now, with the enemy in the next room, he felt no particular desire to gloat over his victories or to try to flee from the danger that was most certainly still in that body. Rubbing the mild heat rash left from the computer's fan and eyeing the closed door, the perpetual child wondered if perhaps he should really see what had become of the man who had once struck fear into the heart of every man, and see how much he could salvage of the beaten dog, perhaps even test the water to see how far he could poke and prod before the beast sunk it's fangs into his hand.

A smile played across those lips at the idea of that. "Don't bite the hand that feeds you," he chuckled, swinging his long legs over the edge of the couch and letting the tiny computer rest on the tabletop. "Maybe I can train you, Shizu-chan! No food for your outbursts."

It couldn't hurt to try to have an obidient dog... if he could look at it without getting physically ill.

Swinging his arms and bouncing on his heels, Izaya merrily made his way to the sleeping giant's room... hesitating at the door despite himself. Through the crack he could see the dark hair against the pillow - something else that made him ill, he looked too much like his brother when their hair was the same color - and a sliver of a peaceful face that didn't suit the creature he'd come to know and loathe.

Thin hands clenched into fists... after getting brain damage, Shizuo had become more predictable. He knew the man's schedule like the back of his own hand now, before even needing to accept him into his home. It was... it was supposed to be fun to watch him struggle, it wasn't supposed to make him uncomfortable. He wasn't supposed to want to turn away and ignore this private moment. After all, he had seen Shizuo's sleeping face more often than anyone else in the world. The dog had poor security and had never been particularly good at remembering to lock his doors. 

"Ne, Shizu-chan," Izaya rose his voice loudly, singsonging, turning away from the sight, swallowing down the - the sickness that came from seeing that sight. The realization that he was pitying him. "I'll see you tomorrow~."

He ignored the baffled golden-brown eyes that snapped open at the sight and returned to his previous place, refusing to acknowledge his own cowardice.  
That morning, Izaya cooked breakfast and made his way into his guest's room.

Shizuo mastered utensils. 

Somewhat. Ten pairs of broken chopsticks later and Izaya had admitted defeat. The fork Shizuo was now holding were bending under the weight of his impossible strength, and he had a difficult time meeting his mouth every time. He seemed to miss a little less every time, but the evidence of his past failures still dotted his face.

It was amusing enough to watch. It didn't banish that sinking, pitiful feeling in his stomach, but schendenfraudia managed to negate those bad feelings. Shizuo shot him a reproachful look once he'd caught him staring, biting the fork between his teeth. 

"Are you done?" Izaya asked, reaching out for the half empty bowl. The dog snapped, and he yanked his hand away before Shizuo's swat could strike home. The last thing he needed was another hairline fracture when he had to deal with this behemoth for an indeterminant amount of time. 

"A simple no would have sufficed, Shizu-chan. No need to act like a barbarian!" Then again, that was all he knew how to do. He looked at the scar, bright white against the man's skin, to the brown hair, letting his gaze drift along his bare, thin arms. "You look so weak, Shizu-chan. How can you still leave dents in the silverware?" 

Shizuo grunted in response, glaring at him.

"I remember when that look would strike fear into the hearts of men," he hummed, pushing the man's bottle of milk closer. Shizuo's hand moved toward it. "But now, Shizu-chan... that look only makes me want to teach you your manners."

He pulled the bottle away, setting it down next to the bed, out of his reach. Anger flashed across the dog's face, his jaw clenching.

The informant steepled his fingers, red eyes boring into the other man's golden ones. Shizuo met his gaze as usual, defiant and bold for only a moment, before the staring had him ducking his head and for the first time in his life, submitting to the will of Orihara Izaya.

It was such a minor thing, most people wouldn't have cared... but this was a sign. "You're living under my roof now, Shizu-chan," that smile was deadly. "So it's up to me to teach you the rules! Your dear brother has trusted me to take care of you and re-teach you how to live in the world..." He swept his hand back, smile running cold. "It's up to me to care for you and teach you how to care for yourself!

"So, Shizu-chan! The first thing you need to know is that - ahh, that look you're wearing! That's forbidden here. If you want something, then you smile! And when we have you talking, you ask nicely.

"You're also not to touch me or grab for me! You're in danger of being institutionalized! If you hurt me, then they could see you as unfit to be in society. Wouldn't that be a shame?" Izaya paused, dropping his hands and letting them fall onto his lap. 

"You're probably only processing half of what I'm saying... look at that confused look on your face," a sigh parted his lips. "Then I'll explain in simpler terms. Anytime you do something I dislike, I'm going to punish you."The look of understanding and fear that steadily crept across the blonde man's face was worth more than anything else in the world. He had never seen Shizuo afraid like this. The power and rush that expression gave him was absolutely intoxicating.

The brunet pulled away from him, his hands fisting the sheets at his sides. The slight tremor that raced through his body was - no, no, that feeling had to go away now. He wouldn't tolerate feeling pity for something so far beneath him. Shizuo gritting his teeth and curling away from him wasn't something he should feel the least bit of sympathy for.

"Shizu-chan," he laughed softly, "what's with that scared face? Don't tell me you're afraid-"

The next thing Izaya knew he was springing back, trying and failing to avoid the splash of hot, searing soup that blazed into his skin. The raven haired man hissed through his teeth. 

"Nnn!" The dog growled, unable to vocalize whatever ineloquent thought popped into his head. "Nnn. Nnn!"

What dignity did the beast have left?

He pulled the hot fabric off of his skin, biting the pained sound back in his throat. 

"Shizu-chan!"

Were Heiwajima Shizuo human, then Izaya wouldn't have had to resort to something so basic to teach him right from wrong. The brunet had always needed very basic instructions to get by on life, but this was taking everything down to it's simplest level possible. When teaching a human right from wrong you had a different tone than you would have if you were scolding a disobient animal - but Izaya had taken on the former.

He wasn't a human. Nothing at all like a human.

"Look at that mess..." Damnit, look at that. Shizuo was glaring at him, he could feel it even as he turned away and busied himself with picking up the bits of the shattered bowl. "If you do that again, Shizu-chan, I'm going to strap you down to the bed like they did in the hospital. Then I'll have to spoon feed you."

His guest pounded his hand against the table - weaker now, he could tell from the expression on Shizuo's face that it was hurting him more than it was damaging the table. The former blonde ground his teeth, pulling away entirely and curling in the fetal position on the far end of the small bed. 

He acted like a small man trapped in a large man's body like this. Like he wasn't sure how his limbs had gotten so long or why he couldn't fit easily into small spaces... just when Izaya thought that there had been no lasting damage, and that all of this had simply been reverting the monster back to a simpler stage, he was faced with things he couldn't deny. 

He hated it.

His expression twisted into an ugly one, contempt scoring lines in his face as he watched Shizuo clench his fists and bring them up to his face. 

Hated it.

Still, the informant moved forward. He carefully tugged the blankets up and around Shizuo's shoulders. It wouldn't do him any good if the robot or the debt collector came in here and saw he was sick... but, as long as he cleaned it up, no one would know that his charge was being a pain. 

No one would know if Shizuo missed a few meals for this sort of thing. That's what you did when training animals, right?"Oh! Tom-san, I have a request!"

Later in the day, Tom let himself into the apartment. By this point, Shizuo had scooted out of his bed and was tromping around the apartment in an effort to figure out where the hell he was. Or, so Izaya assumed. Maybe he was hungry? Too bad. He should have thought of that before he decided to act like an animal. That look of contempt was hard to read, he'd been wearing it since he'd broken his doorknob off. The blonde was leaning against the wall and moving along slowly, staggering around as best he could. It was slow moving and almost entertaining to watch, but it still left a sick feeling in his stomach.

A normal person may have decided that it was a poor idea to let him wander around, but dogs always did like to explore their new homes at their own time.

Tom had walked in just as the dog had managed to find his way out of the kitchen. Izaya waved from his seat on the couch, lifting his laptop from his lap and setting it on his knees as he drew them up closer.

The dark skinned man dutifully ignored him and, like a good senpai, gently pulled the lamp out of Shizuo had knocked over out of his hands ("That's right, easy does it. Why would you want this thing anyway?") and set it back on the table. One large hand gently ruffled the tall brown haired man's hair, earning a smile that the informant had never seen on that usually angry face before. Izaya popped a piece of sushi into his mouth, watching the dislay a little longer before returning his attention to it's rightful place on the screen.

Once Tom had assured himself he wasn't going to need to deal with a violent Shizuo today, he finally responded. "What is it?" 

"Could you dye Shizu-chan's hair?" Izaya stretched out, setting the computer on the table. "I think it might help him recognize himself again." 

And it would successfully destroy any resemblance he and his brother shared and bring the man a step closer to how he used to be. Shizuo was still too thin and didn't look nearly as strong as he once did, but it was at least a step in the right direction. If he could remove the things that triggered that pitiful reaction then maybe he could continue on with how he'd once been.

He looked back up - the look on Shizuo's face said I understand well enough.

The way Shizuo reacted to him and the way he reacted to Tom were two totally different things. With Tom, he could see it - it was as if everything was happening in a fog. He didn't understand the words and needed careful attention... but with Izaya, everything was sharper. It didn't matter what he said, Shizuo knew what it meant. It had to be all instinct - he was recognized as an enemy, thus he was treated as one.

"You want me to dye his hair?" An incredulous note crept into the older man's voice. He could see what was running through his head - He's brain damaged. Why would you do that, are you crazy? There was a pause in Tom's reaction. He blinked, then rolled his eyes. 

Idiot. 

Izaya smiled pleasantly.

"Maybe next time I'm here," Tom said after a long moment, ruffling his bodyguard's hair again. That alone was enough to shake off the rage building inside the taller man. Shizuo ducked his head, leaning into the touch. That was all it took for the debt collector to completely lose interest in him, instead giving the younger man so eager for his attention a sorrowful look. 

"I've got some things of his. I thought I'd spend today just helping him set it up."

"Ah? Didn't you do that that?" One fine brow arched. 

"His brother dropped a couple've things off at my place last night."

"He'll only knock it around, you know. The less that's in there the better!"

"That's why you're being paid, isn't it?" Tom let his hands rest on Shizuo's shoulders, giving him a push towards his room. "If he makes a mess, you clean it up."

His only response was a dismissive wave of the hand. Though unseen, the debt collector touched one ringed hand to his forehead, letting out an aggrivated sigh as he set about getting Shizuo better settled in this new space.

He left a few hours later, tossing a half-hearted wave to Izaya and once again ruffling a downtrodden looking Shizuo's hair, promising him that he'd be back on Tuesday.

After Tom left, Izaya was sure to lock up the food and survey the handiwork. It seemed as though the actor really was going all out - perhaps not realizing his brother's current limitations, he'd bought him a new computer and several other high end electronics that he had no idea how to use. A shelf, filled with books he couldn't read, sat in the corner. New clothes lined the dressers.

The informant deigned only to give his now upset pet a glass of cool water. The glass passed from Izaya's slender fingers into Shizuo's large, calloused hands, losing half of it's contents somewhere in between. Shizuo had started at the mess like the big, dumb animal he was and Izaya had simply sighed and grabbed him a new shirt. 

If he got sick so early in, it would be the death of him.

Changing was a hassle. Whatever it was that Shizuo had identified and hated about him when they had first met had either not changed or worsened. The blonde had started at him with mistrustful eyes and had shrank back once he'd gotten the plain, white t-shirt off of him. Ignoring his terror, Izaya's gaze roved over the man's body, lips drawing into a thin line. 

His once muscular chest had lost a good deal of his definition, and his arms looked oddly stick-like, though he was almost certain that they were still larger than his own.

There was nothing really attractive about it. Objectively, yes. He supposed that some women (and men, of course) would be swooning over the idea of undressing and redressing someone like Shizuo. But... There was no appeal to it for him. Even if this wasn't Shizuo, the alarmed, slightly terrified look he was getting removed any and all pleasure he could have possibly felt. 

Izaya was a sadist in many ways, but seeing the face of a wounded animal simply didn't do it for him.

He let his hand rise up, brushing his fingers over the short, rough patch of brown hair that was starting to grow in over the scar. Even here... no damage could stay.

"You don't deserve any of this, Shizu-chan."

He ducked away and out of the room before the former blonde could strike.

The next day, Tom arrived with a bottle of hair dye. Some expensive sort, some big present for his poor, disabled kouhai.

"I brought it," the debt collector said nonchalantly, peering around inside the apartment with a dull look on his face. There was a hint of a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he stepped inside. 

Izaya didn't care to watch the change. He didn't want to see the transition from brunet to blonde, to find any more reason to associate the weaker, frightened blonde man to the monster that struck fear into the hearts of all. Tom's calm voice and laughter (only slightly force, he noted) carried from the bathroom to his office, the unnatural scent of the dye hot on it's heels.

He only looked up to see the finished product. Shizuo's damp blonde hair hung in his face, some dots staining his clothing (pajamas meant for a man a few sizes larger than him, far from the usual bartender outfit) and he smiles in cold relief. It's harder to see the pitiful man when that trademark blonde hair is there to chase away the memory.

Tom left with the promise of taking Shizuo out for dinner next week, and a reminder - Kasuka would be over whenever his schedule allowed for it. No one knew whenever that may be, given the star's ever changing life and plans.

Shizuo goes without eating that day.

And the next.

And the next.

When Kasuka came to visit he brought the shadow of the media with him. Camera vans parked themselves outside Izaya's office apartment while reporters dutifully waited for an answer to the knocks they were never going to get. He watched them through the slats between the blinds, red eyes narrowed and suspicious. 

Shizuo was still asleep when his younger brother arrived. The star opened without knocking, unapologetic for the mess of people now crowding Izaya's most private of places. The reporters wanted a scoop. They wanted to know all about the feral older brother that crept comfortably in his younger brother's shadow.They wanted to catch Hanejima Yuuhei smiling sweetly while spoon-feeding his poor, brain damaged brother. They wanted a moment of innocence. 

Ah, that was a tabloid reporter - that one probably wanted to capture some half-baked "evidence" of the brother's holding a more intimate relationship. 

That was none of his concern.

The fact that the former bartender was running a fever was. There was no blame placed upon himself. The moment he realized that perhaps starving a young man recovering from a coma was a poor idea, the blame fell to Shizuo for not maintaining enough of his intense strength to get through it unharmed. Dazed brown eyes peered out from under the freshly blonde locks, tired and confused. He was awake long enough to choke down the soup (not that he managed to keep it down, the carpet of his room was stained with vomit within an hour) and then back into an uneasy sleep he went.

The informant would maintain that he felt no guilt.

He told the actor that it wasn't his fault. It was Shizuo's new medication. Which could be true - they were meant to be taken with food. Kasuka's head cants slightly to one side, blank expression revealing nothing. He says something dismissive, then slips into his brother's room for a visit that even Izaya would admit was far too short. 

There was never anything really to note about Kasuka when he wasn't acting. There was no conversation to be heard through the door. Shizuo grunted occasionally, something soft and monotone was said in response - and that was it. He got up and left, taking only half of his unwanted entourage with him.

He let the blinds fall, wheeling back over to his desk. He let his fingers fly over the keyboard, busying himself in a task he didn't particularly care about.

Kanra spent the evening gleefully teasing Tanaka Tarou and Saika about their budding relationship, ignoring the sound of violent retching in the next room. When asked about the long pauses between her usual quips, she responded with a flashy emoticon and said that she was too caught up with the romance in the air. 

In reality, he had to remove a hand from the keyboard to plug his nose. The soft moans were audible in between the songs blasting into his ears, robbing him of his serene smile. Something pitiful sounded like it was dying in the next room over... and that would be bad, with the tabloids still outside and the media just waiting for any excuse to pounce upon the vulnerable brother of the Hanejima Yuuhei.

“I'll be back,” he typed, pursing his lips and risking a glance at slightly open door. “My boyfriend is sick! It's time for Nurse Kanra-chan to work her special magic~! Ah, Saika-chan, maybe I'll email you some of my tips so you can please Tarou-kun later! Bai-bai-bee!”

Izaya only lingered long enough to watch their angry, embarrassed responses before he shut the computer down and set it aside. He stood, stiff and slow, watching for another moment. He expected to see Shizuo standing there, seething, waiting to beat his face in for making him so ill – but there was nothing. Just an empty space where a threat should be, some miserable wail rising in place of a furious roar.

Those days were long gone.

Shoving the door open with his hip, Izaya's grip loosened ever so slightly at the sight that lay before him.

The smell was unbearable. Stomach acid, that was all he had to throw up... Shizuo's throat was in rough shape judging by the scratchy sobs that bubbled from his lips. The blonde man was laying in the foetal position, covered in his own sickness, too weak to get out of bed or away from the mess he'd created. 

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya started, letting disgust wash over his face. “What a mess. Can't you do anything right? There's a bucket for that.”

He didn't want to touch that filth... but it would look bad. He needed to play the sympathetic, long time vitriolic best friend. Not the antagonist that the media would crucify for starving a disabled man. What a choice. Cursing softly under his breath, the informant stepped gingerly into the room and placed a hand on Shizuo's clean shoulder – only to withdraw it once he realized the heat radiating off of him. 

This was bad.

“Shizu-chan, get up.”

The man wasn't even groaning now.

“Shizu-chan.”

Slender fingered moved to his throat. A pulse. He'd passed out.

“Shizu-chan, you stupid dog.” Venom dripped from every word. Izaya grabbed that skinny arm and pulled him out of bed, mildly alarmed at how easy it was to move him. He stripped the shirt off uncermoniously, getting his arms underneath the other's armpits. Had he left a window open, the media hounds would have been treated to the hilarious sight of a small man trying to lug a large man across the apartment. 

Shizuo's heels had carpet-burn and his carpet was stained by vomit, but he considered it a victory when he finally got the man into the bathroom and out of his pajamas. With considerable effort, the blonde soon lay stretched out in the tub. Black, stylish, sleek – Shizuo looked terribly pale against it, the only color on his face being the abnormal red stain to his cheeks.

His fever was too high. 

Damnit.

Izaya reached for the phone, considering the hospital – then thought better of it. Turning the water to a gentle, cold stream, he stood, grabbing the phone from it's cradle as he walked by to dispose of the stained pajamas. 

“Shinra? Ahh, thank you for picking up! Listen, Shizu-chan seems to have come down with a nasty bug. I don't want to move him, could you please come here?”

“-”

“It's nothing like that, nothing like that at all! I noticed he was getting ill, but I thought that might just be because of the weather or not getting enough sleep. The dump trucks take getting used to and I think I've heard him crying because he can't get to sleep with the city noise! Either way, could you please come and take care of this for me? The fever he's running is quite hot and I'm sure you can get in contact with someone who can provide the medication.

And don't come in your usual outfit. Let Celty go around front first then take the back.

Why?

Shizu-chan's brother brought some unwanted visitors. They haven't left yet and I don't want them mobbing you or the hospital staff. It's just easier to call you and say that you're a dear friend wanting to visit if anyone asks.”


End file.
